


the epic highs and lows of asgardian football

by owlerie



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi, otherwise known as: the avengers take a field trip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlerie/pseuds/owlerie
Summary: clint is a hypocrite, natasha is nicer than previously assumed, and tony just wants to get through this week with his heart and liver intact.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	the epic highs and lows of asgardian football

**Author's Note:**

> depending on who you ask, there is no football in this story.

Tony is aware, in a very limited sense of the word, that this is  _ wrong. _ Amid the flashes of light and the occasional thunderous crash of metal against the pavement in the distance, he manages to gather as much cognition as he can at the tender hour of three in the morning to realize that this is really very,  _ very _ wrong.

Bruce throws another mailbox, and it passes harmlessly through the nearest Loki clone and skids to a halt on the corner of 51st and Lexington.

“As I was saying,” says the clone in front of Bruce (and the one next to Tony, and the one Natasha is charging for, but the sound seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once). “If you would all stop  _ throwing _ things at me and just hear me out-”

“Nope,” replies Tony, to which the Loki beside him lets out a long-suffering sigh. There’s a patter of footsteps, a weary  _ on your ten _ in the comms, and Steve comes to a stumbling halt at Tony’s other side. “He’s fake,” says Tony, purely for Steve’s benefit, and the Loki gives a little jazz-hand wave.

Steve puts a shield through his face anyway.

“So what’s the deal with this guy, Cap?” Tony asks, because Steve’s seen more of the not-fight than he has at this point, and because his Loki seems more content to stand there like a prick and pick at his nails than to share why, of all things, he dragged the Avengers out of their tower at ass o’clock in the morning to dick around like a bunch of morons throwing things at holograms. Tony does badly enough on a full night’s sleep after a days-long workshop extravaganza, but two hours max? He’s lucky he hasn’t blasted anyone on  _ his _ side, and that’s  _ with _ the help of Jarvis auto-targeting for him.

“No clue,” replies Steve. He tugs off his cowl and wipes at his forehead -- which,  _ really,  _ that’s incredibly unfair given Tony’s half-asleep state and overall horrendous lack of control over his higher cognitive functions when around a sweaty Steve in leather. “Fury called us out but hasn’t said a word since.”

“I’m starting to think this wasn’t supposed to be a fight, you know.”

“Bingo,” says Loki, and Tony blasts through the left half of his face, the repulsor beam glancing off a streetlamp half a block down and skittering harmlessly into the sky. “ _ Hey-” _

“Can it, greasy.”

Really, he’s too tired for this.

Natasha comes bounding up after a second, taking her place on Steve’s left and glancing warily at the Loki clone, who has now taken to passing one of his intangible arms through Tony’s shoulder with a weirdly misplaced giggle.

“Widow,” Steve says with a tilt of his head. “Damage report.”

“No civilian injuries, no extensive property damage. The Hulk uprooted a couple mailboxes and a trash can that we should probably pick off the street at some point.”

“Irreparable damage to my sleep schedule,” adds Tony. Natasha scoffs.

“You say that like you have one in the first place.”

“That’s hurtful. I resent that statement.”

She blows him a kiss.

“So,” Tony says in Loki’s general direction, since Steve and Nat are too busy talking shop to pay any sort of attention to him. “What are you here for, again?”

The clone gives him a wide smile with  _ far  _ too many teeth. “Why don’t you get the team together and find out?”

And oh, Tony does  _ not  _ like the sound of that. Fortunately for Loki (and perhaps unfortunately for literally everyone else involved), he was never one to back down from what was so obviously a challenge. Besides, maybe listening to this wackjob of an overplayed god would get him to come out of hiding so they could all do something other than harass a bunch of incorporeal magic dickheads. Maybe,  _ maybe _ if they’re very lucky, they can figure out what the hell Loki wants and deal with it so Tony can go the fuck back to sleep.

“-so get to Carnegie and sweep south, check for civilians and see if we can’t scare him out into the open,” Steve is saying, low tones offset by the barest fraction of a second, echoing from Steve’s mouth beside him through the comms and ratcheting Tony’s mild headache up to a solid mid-tier.

“Scratch that, Cap,” he cuts in, and Steve turns as if he had forgotten Tony was there in the first place.

“What?”

Tony jabs a metal-clad thumb over his shoulder, and clone-Loki does his infuriating little wave again. “This one says he’ll come out if we all get together and listen to him.”

Steve squints. “You really think I’ll buy that?”

“C’mon, there’s all of us against one of him. We can’t even  _ hit _ the guy like this, let’s just hear him out and get this over with so I can pass out in an actual bed for once.”

Steve pauses, shifting from foot to foot like he does when he’s trying to choose between oatmeal flavors. Tony steadfastly refuses to question why that comparison popped into his head  _ now  _ of all times. He’s tired, sue him. Finally, after an  _ excruciatingly  _ long fifteen seconds, Steve flicks his eyes from Tony’s face to the clone’s, and then to Natasha, who gives him the slightest nod.

Tapping the comm unit in his ear, Steve grinds out a quiet, “all units to 52 and Lexington. Loki wants to bargain.”

Clint is the first to touch ground, rappelling down the side of a swanky hotel and landing feet-first right in the middle of the clone. Loki pulls his head back and sticks his arms out, and Clint apparently gets a kick out of having eight limbs despite the fact that four of them belong to a guy that had torn apart half of New York in recent, if fading, memory. Bruce follows, green fading down to his usual tan, more or less unperturbed when Steve tosses him a folded-up pair of gym shorts.

_ “Excellent,” _ says the clone, and snaps out of existence with a cartoonish  _ pop. _

“Shit,” says Tony in response.

===

In retrospect, they had all seen Thor visit and depart from Earth enough times that they  _ really _ should have remembered the Bifrost existed. All it takes is the five of them -- six when Loki, the  _ real _ Loki, steps out of the hotel Clint had been perched on -- standing in the area of a roughly three-foot radius circle, and Loki’s call of  _ “Heimdall, now” _ comes too fast for any of them to duck out of the way. A beam of blinding, opalescent light shoots down from the heavens right in the middle of midtown fucking Manhattan _ ,  _ and suddenly Tony is being lifted off his feet. 

Jarvis goes dark right around the two-second mark, and Tony is  _ immensely  _ glad he has the armor on. Natasha looks as though she might throw up.

They tumble in a heap on cold tile floor, looking up at a golden ceiling and a tall, armor-clad Asgardian.

“Thank you, Heimdall,” says Loki, mid-shift into a figure that looks considerably  _ less _ like Loki, draped in robes with braided red hair instead of the usual green ensemble. 

“I did not do this for you,” Heimdall replies. “See that they are gone within the week.”

“What the  _ fuck,” _ says Tony.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos much appreciated!! <3


End file.
